


Hang On Little Tomato

by kashmir



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hugs, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 18:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashmir/pseuds/kashmir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is suffering from a hug recession. Stiles is his stimulus bill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hang On Little Tomato

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by the glorious [unamaga](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unamaga/pseuds/unamaga), who is the best ever, and who also supplied me with the hilarious summary. First fic in this fandom, but certainly not the last, especially since this was the second fic I wrote for this pairing. Working title of this was "Derek Hale needs all the hugs," actual title taken from a Pink Martini song of the same name. Commence hugging!

The first time Stiles hugs Derek it’s right after they’ve all managed to defeat an evil band of goblins – and god, what is his life. 

Stiles doesn’t think about it, he just _does_ , tugging at Derek’s sleeve until Derek is facing him instead of the oozing puddle of goo the goblins had just turned into and pulls him into a hug, laughing the whole time. And if his laugh is bordering a little on the hysterical side, well, he doubts anyone could blame him. He squeezes Derek tight for a few moments, arms looped around Derek’s – wow, okay – really muscular midsection, hands patting Derek’s equally muscular and firm back. When he pulls away, he nods at Derek once, chalking his expression up to exhaustion, because they’ve been working nearly non-stop for two weeks to figure out this goblin problem, and relief, because _they’ve been working nearly non-stop for two weeks to figure out this goblin problem_ and it’s finally taken care of. 

It’s not until much, much later – after Stiles has finished hugging everyone, including Jackson, for chrissake, after the pack has gotten some food at Denny’s, and he’s gone home to shower off the goblin blood – that he realizes Derek had actually started to hug him back at the end there. He chuckles to himself as he dries off. 

Wonders never cease.

\--

The second time it happens, it's sort of an involuntary hug - one that Stiles is reasonably sure he can blame entirely on Derek being a pigheaded moron. They're trapped in an elevator shaft, Jackson is ignoring Stiles' increasingly frantic texts, and there are literal baying hounds just outside of jumping distance from where they're hanging off one of the cables.

And like, okay, seriously, it’s bad enough that Scott never answers his damn phone, but now Jackson’s apparently in on the conspiracy, too. He complains about all of this to Derek, who is clinging just as hard to Stiles as he is to the elevator cable, and Derek just growls at him, “Be quiet.”

“Jesus, Derek, you’ve met me, right? I’m the definition of nervous babbling, okay? And this,” he goes to wave his hands around to encompass their rather dire situation, only to realize a second before doing it that he would probably fall to his death, before continuing, “This right here is really making me nervous.”

“Jackson will come,” is all Derek has to say to that and Stiles can’t help his snort of disbelief.

“If you say so, Mister Know-It-All-Alpha.”

But, much to Stiles’ chagrin, Derek is right, and Jackson shows up ten minutes later with Isaac and Scott in tow. The three of them manage to take care of the hounds while Derek and Stiles climb back down to the relative safety of the floor outside the elevator shaft. Stiles holds on for probably a minute too long after they get floor back underneath their feet, but, he notices, Derek doesn’t seem in a great big rush to let go either. He pats Derek’s shoulder when he does finally let go and lets out a chuckle as the other three werewolves make their way back to them.

“It’s been fun hanging out with you tonight, Derek,” Stiles says, a tint of hysterical laughter in his voice - holy fuck, he was never going to be able to watch the anti-gravity sequence in _Inception_ ever again - “but I have an Econ test tomorrow that I need to study for.”

\--

The third time it happens, he doesn’t really realize it’s happening until it’s already happened. But, okay, he’s been really busy lately, what with his dad pushing him to take SAT prep classes every Saturday, and his regular schoolwork and lacrosse and pack business and - well, it’s not like he was really all with it that night.

It was late, he was one of the last to leave after the latest pack meeting and Derek had called out to him, said he needed Stiles for a minute before he left. And, really, Stiles has no excuse for not being prepared for what happens next, but he isn’t. He thinks it might be because he’s focusing too hard on the box of terrible-and-yet-oh-so-good mac’n’cheese waiting for him at home, along with his DVR, full up of episodes of _Community_ to fall asleep to.

Then suddenly Derek is hugging him. Derek Hale. Is hugging him. Stiles Stilinski. And okay, Stiles grew up in a family where they hugged all the time, and he hugs Scott a lot and, whatever, he’s just a really tactile person, so he does what he normally does when he’s being hugged: he hugs back.

After several long moments, though, he starts to squirm, because, like, seriously, what is going on?

“What the fuck, dude?” he says, face forcibly squished into the warm leather of Derek’s shoulder – and wow, Derek should _not_ be allowed to smell this good. 

Derek pulls back abruptly then, frowning at Stiles. “There’s a rival pack in the area, encroaching on our territory. I had to make sure my scent was strong on you so they’d know to leave you alone, that you’re pack.”

And while Stiles is always pleased to hear he’s pack – very pleased, don’t get him wrong – he’s just too tired and worn out to even process the strange way Derek isn’t looking him in the eye or the way he’s fidgeting a little with the sleeve of his leather jacket.

“Alrighty then! Consider me well and truly marked! Just glad you didn’t have to pee on me, that would’ve been _super_ awkward,” Stiles says, walking backwards towards his Jeep and ignoring the eye roll he gets for the peeing remark (that will never get old, man, Stiles has a whole mental catalog of dog jokes he’s just waiting to use on Derek). “So yeah. It’s all good, I’m all scented up so I’m just gonna go home and have some quality time with my DVR. Later!”

\--

The fourth time it happens, Stiles is in no shape to be putting two and two together – at least until after the fact. He and Derek had stumbled onto a hunter’s camp while they were a couple of towns over getting a book Stiles needed for some research he was doing for the pack. And of course – because this is Stiles’ life – this led to running for their lives through the dark and treacherous woods with a trigger-happy hunter hot on their tails. 

They manage to lose him eventually, but in the process they get themselves lost, too. Stiles has also, in the process, managed to do something to his ankle and Derek’s got an arrow wound in his leg. It’s, thankfully, not laced with wolfsbane or something else, but it makes it nigh on impossible for him to support his own weight, let alone Stiles’, until it heals, and until one of them can make it up a tree to figure out which way is north, they’re stuck. Which means they have to huddle in the shadow of a fallen log all night. Together. Wrapped up tight around each other because it’s fucking cold out and all Stiles has on is a thin hoodie.

And like, okay, Stiles can maybe attribute that time to actually literally conserving body heat, but once he gets home the next morning, after a wonderful visit to the ER, and plus one set of crutches, he has the time to think back over the past few weeks. And the increased instances of hugging. Between him and Derek. Derek and him hugging. Granted, a few of those times had been due to rather dire life or death circumstances, but the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks that Derek is just looking for excuses to hug him.

Because, lets face it, the night before had all about keeping warm and not developing hypothermia, but there was no good reason on this Earth for the way Derek’s fingers had been rather gently stroking the length of Stiles’ spine when he woke up this morning, okay?

\--

Stiles doesn’t get to a chance to talk to Derek about this new development for a while, between Derek having to go away for a week to some big Alpha conference or something in San Francisco (shut up, Stiles was more interested in the complimentary food than the conversation that meeting), Stiles taking his SATs, and Stiles’ dad becoming way overprotective in the wake of Stiles’ sprained ankle and mysterious overnight disappearance. 

So, Stiles has yet to be able to talk to Derek about whatever the fuck is going on with… the hugging or whatever. He’s on his way out to the field for practice one Friday, his first practice since he got rid of the crutches, and he rolls his eyes when he spots Derek lurking under the bleachers, motioning Stiles over. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” is the first thing out of Stiles mouth when he gets to Derek. Derek’s brow furrows and he cocks his head.

“What?”

“Just – you know.” Stiles gestures widely with his lacrosse stick. “Lurking in the shadows, being all broody and mysterious. Is Angelus, like, your hero or something?”

Derek’s brows, if it’s possible, furrow even more. “What are you – who’s – you know what, I don’t want to know. I need to talk to Scott and Jackson about something that came up on my trip.”

Stiles sighs. “Yeah, alright. They’re still in the locker room. Do you want me to go get - mmmpph!”

He ends up with a mouthful of Derek’s tee shirt, which he takes a moment to thank is apparently clean, before he tries to push away or get air or anything. Stiles is finally able to free his mouth to ask, “Dude, seriously, what the fuck is your deal?”

“Shh, just act like this is normal, they’re watching,” Derek says.

Stiles tries to crane his head around to see whom these mysterious watchers are, but Derek is quick to press his face back into Derek’s chest, his fingers threaded through the short lengths of Stiles’ hair.

Stiles sighs and manages to mumble into the firm planes of Derek’s chest, “If you want hugs, Derek, all you have to do is ask.”

Derek goes absolutely still against him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There were some of Argent’s henchmen here, I had to make sure they weren’t –“

Stiles pulls away and cuts him off. “Just – give it up, Derek. Admit you like hugging.”

Derek scowls and practically runs away from Stiles towards the parking lot. “Tell Scott and Jackson I’ll talk to them later,” he calls over his hunched shoulder, hands buried deep in the pockets of his jacket.

“This isn’t over, Hale!” Stiles yells at his retreating back. “You and I are going to have words about your hugging issue!”

\--

Stiles shows up at the abandoned house the pack is using for home base currently a little after nine that night. He knows for a fact, after some not-so-subtle recon, that Derek’s here alone. Erica and Boyd are off on a date that they’re refusing to call a date, Isaac’s helping Deaton out at the clinic, while Scott and Allison are being… whatever Scott and Allison are now, and Jackson and Lydia are out of town for the weekend visiting some relatives of hers in Oregon.

So he’s not surprised when Derek steps out onto the porch, shoulders hunched like before, looking a bit defensive. “What do you want, Stiles?”

“What? No ‘hi, how are you, good to see you?’” Stiles asks, grinning.

Derek just growls.

“Fine,” Stiles sighs, “we need to talk. About this whole – hugging business. Because, okay. Like my dad always says, one’s an incident, two’s a coincidence, and three’s a pattern. And man, our accidental cuddle fests have happened way too many times to even be considered a pattern. They’re more like a regular occurrence.”

Derek silent for a long moment, fidgeting - which, wow, alert the presses - and clears his throat. "I. Shit." He sighs, and his shoulders seem to draw up around his ears. "I like hugging you, okay?"

Maybe it's unfair to gape, but Stiles can't really control himself. That's - that's like atomic bomb levels of wow. "Well, uh," Stiles says slowly. "Uh, yeah. Ha. Cause I am like a hug guru, my hugs are supreme in quality and duration. Who doesn't love a hug from me? Even grumpy werewolves aren't immune to the motion in this hug ocean."

Derek scowls. "Never mind, whatever, forget I said anything."

"No!" Stiles scrambles to follow as Derek starts stalking away, catching Derek's sleeve despite very real risk to his limbs. "No, I'm sorry, it's fine, I'm sorry!"

Derek doesn't stop trying to get away, but Stiles has a pretty good grip and Derek's not really forcefully shaking him off so much as just continuing to move in a forward direction. The stairs are right ahead of them, though, and Stiles isn't sure his grip can withstand the impending jump to the top, so he takes drastic measures. 

He gathers up all his strength and courage, and leaps, grabbing Derek around his impressive chest and hugging him with all his hugging skill. And he knows Derek probably – well at least it’s _likely_ that he won’t kill him, but Derek still might maim him for unwarranted hugging. Derek grunts when Stiles wraps himself around him and goes stiff and Stiles thinks for a horrifying moment that he was totally wrong, he totally miscalculated _everything_ , when something amazing happens.

Derek starts to hug him back. He brings his hands up and wraps his fingers in Stiles’ jacket, tight, and squeezes Stiles back. It’s a miracle!

“The first step is acceptance,” Stiles says to Derek’s shoulder, trying not to sound too smug. “I gotta ask, though, did your heart grow three sizes today?”

Derek huffs in Stiles’ ear – which, uh-huh, shivers, that’s new, okay – and then says, “I don’t know, if I admit it did, can I call you Cindy Lou from now on?”


End file.
